Tied Together For A Lifetime
by hamima
Summary: One-shots exploring moments in Bash and Kenna's marriage. Mostly canon, some slightly AU. New Chapter: Kenna and Bash deal with the personal tragedy the plague has brought to their lives. (Spoilers for 2x01)
1. Darkness

_Set sometime shortly after the Season One Finale_

As Kenna's eyelids flutter open, she is immediately struck by the oppressive darkness of the room, devoid even of the usual moonlight from the windows. She's not sure what caused her to wake, although it wouldn't surprise her to learn it was simply the eerie stillness of the night. The whole world has seemed darker and more silent lately; an omen of serious illness and a testament to the fear and watchfulness that currently pervade the land. It is not a world in which one would wish to be alone, and Kenna feels thankful again that she has the man beside her to be her companion as the entire kingdom journeys through the shadow of death.

At the thought of her husband, Kenna suddenly realizes that while she can sense Bash's presence behind her, there is distance between them in the bed. Aching to feel his arms around her, she rolls over to discover Bash lying on his back. Although it is too dark for her to clearly see his face, she can tell from his rigidity and the sound of his breathing that he isn't asleep. She snuggles into his side, reaching out a hand to caress his cheek. Bash starts in the darkness, but immediately responds by reaching around to pull her closer, the fingers of his free hand running feather light caresses along the arm she has draped across his chest. His touch is gentle and full of love, but Kenna senses he is still distracted by the worry and guilt that has been stealing his sleep and shadowing his smile since it was announced that the plague had come to France.

"You aren't responsible" Kenna whispers, tilting her face upwards until her lips brush against the curve of his ear.

Bash sighs, leaning towards her until his head rests against her own. "I'm fine. Go back to sleep, Sweetheart," he whispers in response.

Kenna has not been married to this man for very long, and she has been in love with him for even less time, but she knows when he is lying. She is not amused by his self-inflicted martyrdom, nor will she be deterred by his gentle dismissal of her reassurance. Instead, she takes his chin in her hand, pulling gently at his face until they are nose to nose in the darkness.

"You are not responsible." She states again, not bothering to whisper this time. "There are some things in life no one can predict, and no one can prevent. You are not responsible, Bash. This guilt you carry is not your burden to bear."

The sound of her voice cuts through the stillness like a knife, disrupting the uneasy peace of the hour and lingering in the air. As the room grows silent again, Kenna continues to hold Bash's face close, trying desperately to see his eyes in the darkness. As she feels their breaths fall into sync, she wills her husband to accept her words, her assurances, her absolution as easily as he seems to accept the rhythm of her breathing. The changes in his eating habits, the lack of sleep, the way he carries himself as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders all frighten her. She pushes back the sudden rising resentment she feels that he doesn't understand that his personal torture is torturing her too.

As if reading her thoughts, Bash moves suddenly, wrapping himself tightly around Kenna as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. "I'm sorry." He breathes against her skin. She wishes she believed the apology was actually meant for her.

"I love you, Bash" murmurs Kenna as she holds him tightly against her, "I love you".

She hopes fervently that at least when she says these words, he believes her.


	2. The Boy

Author's Note: Set sometime during 2x01. Slightly AU.

The castle is still under quarantine, and, if you ask Kenna, Bash is not handling it well.

With the gates closed to both incoming and outgoing traffic, and the fear of sickness hampering the peoples' desire for social interaction, the court has become essentially deserted. Yet, it isn't so much the isolation as the lack of activity that seems to be slowly suffocating the Master of Horse and Hunt. While Kenna was trained to thrive indoors as an ornament of the court, Bash experienced a childhood with more freedom, frequently exercising the right to avoid the formalities and politics of court life by retreating to the outdoors. On days like today, when the weather makes even a walk through the gardens impossible, he reminds his wife very much of a caged animal.

As if to prove her point, Bash currently stands still and silent by the window. All his attention is focused on the view outside as though he is trying to stop the rain with the force of his will. Kenna, sitting in a chair nearby, takes time to study him with discreet glances in between the delicate embroidery stitches she is adding to the cloth in her hands.

It is not lost on Kenna how well the title Master of Horse and Hunt suits her husband. Even in the midst of his madness, Henry had managed to bestow upon Bash a title that, while meant to be humiliating, had still reflected how well he knew the young man who had once been his favorite son. It certainly hadn't taken Kenna very long to notice the fulfillment Bash seemed to find when carrying out a mission that allowed him to be outdoors and roaming the countryside. For most of their marriage he had been on a hunt for The Darkness. Now, despite Bash's professed desire to experience domestic life, Kenna is beginning to realize she will need to allow him to roam when the mood strikes. The thought doesn't bother her nearly as much as it did a few weeks ago. Honestly, she would do just about anything for him these days if only she could have the old Bash back. She barely recognizes the tired and discouraged man before her as the same devil-may-care adventurer who first greeted Mary's carriage what seems now to have been a lifetime ago.

Kenna is so deep in thought, that it startles her when Pascal, who is currently sitting at her feet and looking through a picture book, interrupts her musings, breaking through the deafening silence of the room with the now familiar rhyme.

_"I lie behind the star-bright sky,_

_I do not fear this life's goodbye…"_

He speaks it softly, almost unconsciously, as he flips the pages of the book before him.

Kenna smiles gently, wondering if the current tranquility of their domestic setting has caused the boy to remember his parents.

Bash's reaction, however, is quite different. The moment he hears the words, he whirls from where he stands, face livid and eyes wild as he takes two steps towards where the boy sits.

"I never want to hear those words uttered again in our household, Pascal!" Bash demands in a dangerous tone. "Do you understand?"

Pascal whimpers in fear, scurrying to his feet and throwing himself into Kenna's arms for safety.

Kenna stares at her husband in shock and horror as she holds the boy tightly against her. She chastises Bash with her eyes for his display of anger towards the child, but the look he returns is unrepentant. After giving Pascal one more reassuring squeeze, Kenna lifts his chin so she can see his eyes. She smiles kindly.

"Pascal, darling, why don't you go find Lady Greer and see if she will play a game with you?"

The boy, still clearly terror stricken, picks up his book and nearly runs out of the room, not even daring to glance in Bash's direction as he rushes past.

The moment the door closes, Kenna jumps to her feet, the forgotten needlework falling to the floor.

"How dare you speak to Pascal that way for reciting a harmless rhyme!" She cries, her voice quivering with anger. "It's no wonder he is so afraid of you!"

Bash's eyes flash. "And, do you know how that harmless rhyme ends?

'_Close your eyes for my caress,_

_For I am the Darkness_'.

I am _The Darkness_, Kenna!"

"Bash, he's a little boy!"

"Who only a few weeks ago was being trained to be the next murderous monster in the woods! I will not have him speak those words in our home!"

As Bash returns to his post at the window, Kenna remains silent, letting the full import of his words sink into her mind. It had never occurred to her that Bash might believe the boy she had so willingly included in their life might be dangerous. She certainly doesn't believe it herself. Perhaps, if this is one of the burdens that has been so heavily weighing on his conscience lately, she can finally help him in some way.

Kenna moves slowly and carefully across the room towards her husband, praying he will continue to confide in her now that his concerns about Pascal are out in the open. Reaching his side, she slides one arm around his waist before placing a soft kiss on his shoulder.

"Bash" she says softly. "Please look at me."

As he turns in her arms, she sees the haunted look of grief and defeat has returned to his face.

"You don't truly believe Pascal is capable of that kind of violence, do you?"

"I don't know," Bash admits quietly. "And that's what scares me. Everything that monster said would happen if he died without a successor has come true. If Pascal realizes there is a connection…"

"Bash," chides Kenna gently, "he's such an affectionate child, and it's been weeks since you killed The Darkness. After saving his life and caring for him in our home, don't you think the time for worry has passed?"

Bash lets out a heavy breath, studying her for just a moment before he speaks.

"Promise me you won't spend any more time alone with Pascal."

"Bash!," protests Kenna.

He takes her face in his hands, leaning in until their foreheads touch. "If anything were to happen to you, I would never forgive myself. Promise me that if you are with Pascal, you will always be sure someone else is nearby."

It's a ridiculous promise, one she already knows in her heart she will never be able to keep. Yet, she has felt so helpless around Bash recently, unable to share his suffering or offer him reassurance. Now that he has finally included her in his fears, finally asked for her help, she realizes it is impossible to deny him.

"I promise." She says sincerely, pulling back to look into his eyes.

Bash breathes a sigh of relief, tension rolling off his shoulders as he gathers her closer to him. "Thank you" he murmurs into her hair.

Brushing aside the twinge of guilt she feels for her dishonesty, Kenna decides instead to focus on the knowledge that her husband seems to finally have found at least a few moments of peace.


	3. Breakdown

_Author's Note: Thank you for your kind comments! It is always nice to know that people enjoy reading what I enjoy writing!_

Kenna's ability to stay positive is beginning to wane.

While she's never considered herself a naturally cheerful person, recently Kenna has been trying extra hard to change. It still bothers her that Bash originally thought her a selfish person. Now, with everything seemingly falling apart around them, she suddenly finds it very important to show him she is capable of not only being a comfort to him, but also a source of hope in the midst of the despair that has recently overtaken the French court.

Any naïve notions Kenna might have previously entertained about how much better court life would be without King Henry had been utterly demolished within the first week of their return. In the face of rampant sickness, the feeling of terror is palpable in every corner of the court. A Henry had been fallible, a serious but ultimately mortal threat that could still be subdued or avoided. The Plague is more universally unpredictable and uncontrollable, leaving grief and devastation in its wake. Kenna herself might no longer be a specific target, but she is hardly safer than she had been while trying to evade the clutches of the mad king. Even worse, now all of her loved ones are in danger as well. Though she tries to hide it, the constant feeling of fear and worry is wearing her down both physically and emotionally.

She is so deeply involved in her self-misery that she doesn't even hear the door when Bash enters their chambers.

"Here you are! I've been looking for you."

"Where else would I be?" Kenna retorts with a bitter laugh. "We've been advised to stay as isolated as possible, remember?"

She notes the way Bash relaxes slightly, some of the concern in his eyes abating. Despite her mood, it warms her heart to know that he has apparently been worried, albeit irrationally, about her safety.

"It's the first beautiful day we've had in ages. I thought you might have been walking in the gardens or visiting with some of the other ladies in the Great Hall."

"There are people in the Great Hall?" The news surprises Kenna since gatherings in the court have been few and far between of late. "Is that where you have been all this time?"

Bash hesitates, breaking eye contact momentarily before answering.

"No. Mary sent for me."

"Oh" is all Kenna says, a little too cheerfully, as she turns back to her task at the table while trying to control the sudden racing of her heart.

She tells herself again that the jealousy is irrational. Bash is her husband, and he loves her. However, it isn't fair that while Bash no longer has to worry about Henry, Kenna must still wonder what Mary's intentions are each time Bash is summoned to her side. While she knows Mary loves Francis, Kenna has also noticed that their relationship is often strained, a situation recently exacerbated by Francis's departure in search of Lola. With tensions and emotions currently running high, Kenna longs more than anything to return with Bash to their new home, putting a safe distance between her husband and her queen. As it stands, she can't help wondering if the Plague is the only potential threat to her personal happiness currently looming at court.

Bash interrupts Kenna's musings, moving closer to her chair. "What are you working on?" He asks curiously. Laid out on the table in front of her is a diagram of embroidery thread filled with carefully placed knick-knacks.

His obvious effort to change the subject is not lost on Kenna, but she chooses to go along, hoping he will see it as a demonstration of her trust in him.

"I'm making plans for our new home. Would you like to join me? We scarcely had time to begin unpacking before we were called away. I thought maybe planning it out ahead of time would make the task go more quickly when we return."

Bash shifts uncomfortably, his face troubled.

"Kenna…" he says slowly. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that. The Plague has been devastating to the kingdom, and when disasters like this strike, criminals tend to exploit the situation. My guess is that our home has been all but abandoned, and I just want you to be prepared that by the time we go back, there is some possibility…"

"Looters?" Kenna can hardly get the word out, her throat suddenly dry.

Bash just nods.

Something inside Kenna finally snaps as her last bit of hope for the future seems to dissipate into thin air. A hopeless laugh escapes her as she angrily sweeps one arm across the table, sending a cascade of items clattering to the floor, before flouncing back in her chair. "Of course it will all be gone! It would be too much to hope that something in this cursed country would actually go right!"

When she looks back at Bash, he is clearly startled by her outburst. "Are you alright?"

"No, Bash! Of course I'm not alright!"

No longer able to contain her agitation, Kenna gets up and begins to pace.

"I'm tired of being scared all the time! I'm tired of being sad and worried! Ever since Aylee died, life has been nothing more than a series of disasters! Even now, I'm constantly worried about whether or not my friends are going to live through the plague, whether or not Catherine is scheming against you to protect her children, whether or not Mary is trying to steal my husband, whether or not you will ever share with me whatever it is you seem to be hiding…"

Kenna's tirade is cut short as Bash wraps her in his arms, gently pressing her head to his shoulder. "Come here," is all he says.

The minute she stops moving, Kenna begins to cry. She's been holding so much in for so long, trying to stay strong, that the comfort of her husband's embrace and the opportunity to finally share her worries is overwhelming. Bash just continues to hold her, whispering words of comfort as he presses kisses into her hair.

As her tears finally subside, Kenna pulls back suddenly in dismay.

"Bash! This is your second best doublet!"

"What does that have to do with anything?" he asks in confusion.

Looking up at him with a tear streaked face, she finds she is beginning to feel more like herself again.

"You may be completely oblivious to the necessities of courtly fashion, but if we are to be left with only the belongings we have with us, I refuse to personally be responsible for ruining your best clothes."

"What? With tears?"

"Let me go, you fool, so I can get my handkerchief!" demands Kenna, wriggling to be free.

Placing one last kiss to her temple, her husband reluctantly releases her from his arms.

As she makes her way across the room, Bash leans down and picks up a broach from where it landed when Kenna swept it off the table.

"What is this supposed to be?" he asks curiously, eyeing the diagram of the house on the table.

"The big chair in the great room." Replies Kenna, blowing her nose.

"And this?"

"The dining table."

By the time she is back at his side, Bash has picked up most of the objects on the floor and seated himself at the table, carefully beginning to place items back in the diagram. Almost unconsciously, he reaches an arm around Kenna and gently pulls her into his lap.

"What would you think if we moved this to the other wall?"

"Opposite the windows?"

"It would be easier to stay warm in the winter if we were closer to the fireplace."

"What do you think about hanging a tapestry here?"

After a few moments of studying the floor plan together, Kenna realizes that Bash is staring at her. "What's wrong?" She asks self consciously, unable to stop the blush that rises to her cheeks as she meets the intensity in his eyes.

"There's nothing going on with Mary." He says sincerely. "We're both worried about Francis. That's all. You are my wife, Kenna. I love you."

"Say it again." Kenna demands quietly, her fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

"As many times as you need to hear it." replies Bash, the warmth in his eyes once again threatening to overwhelm her. "You are my wife, and I love you."

As the tears threaten to return, Kenna finds his lips with her own, trying to express everything she's feeling without words.

The house plans remains forgotten for the rest of the afternoon.

_Disclaimer: While I personally think France is a beautiful country, I imagine Kenna feeling as though most of her current troubles began when she left Scotland to be one of Mary's ladies. That's why she calls it a "cursed country". No offense intended..._


	4. Aftermath

Author's Note: They didn't give this story line enough closure to suit me.

_"__Bash? Pascal?" _

_Kenna pushes herself against the stone wall to avoid physical contact as another family of nobles hurries past her through the castle corridor. It's been hours since she has seen either Pascal or Bash, and she is beginning to worry._

_A sense of relief washes over her as she hears Pascal's voice through the large door to her right. _

_"__Kenna!"_

_As she opens the door, relief turns to dismay. The chamber is full of dead, plague ridden bodies. Pascal, clothing bloodied, stands next to the prostrate body of a man who, based on the clothing, is most certainly Bash. She bites back a scream as bile rises in her throat._

_"__Please don't leave me! They'll burn me!"begs Pascal, boils beginning to rise on his skin before her eyes. _

_Behind her, Kenna can hear the guards approaching. An orange glow of torchlight reflects off the walls, getting closer and closer…_

Kenna sits straight up in bed, heart racing and tears streaming down her face. Instinctively, she reaches for Bash, a fresh wave of tears appearing when she discovers he is not there. Silently, she curses Francis again for leaving the castle. If Bash wasn't so determined to oversee the guards in his brother's absence, he might be here by her side when she needs him instead of off trying to save the kingdom, thereby also putting himself in harm's way.

Although it is already dawn and the room has begun to take on the pink and orange hues of the sunrise, Kenna lights a candle with shaking hands. She's had enough darkness for one night.

It's been a week since they lost Pascal to the plague, and even though Kenna misses him every day, she has not truly grieved. She thought it would be something that she and Bash would do together. The boy had had no other family in the world. The least they could do was give him the honor of remembering him with the grief and love that every lost child deserves.

After cooling her face with water from the nearby basin, Kenna paces across the room a few times before walking determinedly over to the trunk in the corner and opening the lid. Only a few short weeks ago, she had done this very thing with Pascal beside her.

_"__While we are staying in the castle, I thought you could use this trunk for your things."_

Her hand brushes gently across the blue doublet on top as she sinks to the floor. "He only wore this once." She thinks, carefully refolding it and laying it at her side before reaching for the garment underneath.

Within moments, the small trunk is empty and Pascal's worldly possessions sit in neat piles around her. There isn't much—a few sets of clothing, a toy or two, a set of smooth stones he must have been collecting—but Kenna knows the boy treasured it all. She is about to close the lid again when she notices something shiny at the very bottom of the trunk.

It is her mother's cross necklace, the one she had given to Pascal on the very first day she met him. What was it she had said to him, then? _"My mother gave this to me when I left Scotland. She said it would always keep me safe. I wanted you to have it." _In the end, neither she nor the necklace had been able to keep the little boy safe. He was gone forever.

The floodgates open finally, and Kenna wails openly, choking on heaving sobs as she clutches the necklace hard enough to feel the edges of the cross digging into her skin, threatening to draw blood.

She doesn't protest at all when she feels Bash's arms encircle her from behind, pulling her into his body as he sits behind her, whispering soothing words against her hair.

"I couldn't save him." She cries brokenly, turning into her husband's arms. "I couldn't keep him safe." Pressing her face against Bash's, she finds her own cheeks are not the only ones wet with tears.

By the time the crying ends, Kenna and Bash find themselves sitting entwined against the trunk, both starring at the cross necklace Kenna idly caresses in her hands.

"I've made arrangements for a churchyard burial." Bash finally murmurs against her ear.

"He was a pagan." Kenna says, turning slightly to meet his eyes.

"I know," replies Bash. "But he was also a child. He deserves a proper resting place, not an unmarked mass grave.

"I really felt like he was ours." Sighs Kenna, settling back into his arms, a solitary tear sliding down her cheek.

"I know." Repeats Bash, his arms tightening around her slightly.

"Bash," says Kenna, sitting up suddenly and turning to fix him with her full attention. "Do you want children?"

"Of course...Yes." Says Bash looking at her incredulously.

"How many?"

"Kenna, I hardly think…"

"How many?" She insists.

Bash sighs in defeat. "At least two. In my experience, I think it best for children to have at least one brother or sister as a companion."

"I agree." States Kenna before crawling into his lap and ghosting her lips over his. "Bash, let's have a baby." She purrs.

"Kenna," pleads Bash, trying to stay rational as his wife peppers kisses along his jaw. "Are you sure? We have lost our home, Francis is still missing, food is scarce, and the plague is only just receding. Having a child of our own will not replace Pascal, nor will it be any easier to keep a child of our own safe."

Kenna sits back, a disappointed look on her face. "You could have just said 'no'."

"Kenna," says Bash, leaning forward to take her face in his hands. "I _want _children! I _want _children with _you_! But I also want to make sure we're making this decision for the right reasons—for us and our family, not as an emotional reaction to tragedy and grief."

"Bash," replies Kenna, reaching up to press his hands closer against her face. "If there is one thing I realized sitting alone in that room with Pascal, surrounded by death, it's that life is short and our time together is precious. I think Pascal was sent to us so I wouldn't be so afraid of being a mother anymore. I want children with you; you want children with me. Who knows what tomorrow may hold? Let's not waste any more time. Let's start trying for a baby!"

A long moment passes before Kenna sees Bash swallow hard, clearly coming to a decision seconds before a mischievous look enters his eyes. "Well, when you put it that way, I think we'd be much more comfortable on the bed." He states matter-of-factly before scooping her into his arms and carrying her across the room.

Kenna wonders briefly if the candle she lit earlier is still burning, but she soon ceases to care in the heat of her husband's embrace.

Instead of nightmares, her next few nights are filled with dreams of tiny pink humans with Bash's eyes and smile.


End file.
